


Jailed Heart

by xHaruka17x



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Cheating, Emotional Abuse, Hate Crimes, Homophobia, Married Castiel, Multi, Murderer Dean, Physical Abuse, Sam Wesson - Freeform, Slow Build, Underage Rape/Non-con, Violence, excon Dean, herbalist Castiel, small town mentality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6573514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xHaruka17x/pseuds/xHaruka17x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CURRENTLY ON HIATUS... for now. </p><p>Dean Winchester is an ex-con with a dark past who was just released after twenty years. He only has two things on his mind, find his little brother Sam and survive as a free man. </p><p>Castiel Novak is a herbalist in an abusive marriage. He struggles to be accepted by his hateful town and not cave into his fears.</p><p> When their paths cross, will they find what they need or will life tear them apart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my awesome banner from cadlg7!  
> And Thank you to my wonderful Beta Angie Curtis!  
> Enjoy!! Please read & give me feedback!

 

He was getting out.

After twenty years and six different prisons, Dean was finally getting out of prison. In less than two weeks he would be a free man, yet he had no idea how to feel. He knew nothing else besides being in prison. Being convicted at fifteen years old as an adult for two aggravated murders, prison life was all Dean knew.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he would try and find his little brother Sam. He hadn’t seen him since that horrible night when everything changed. Dean wondered what happened to him. Sam had never come to visit him while locked up, not even a phone call or letter.

Dean was presently sitting on his cot, his back against the cement wall of his cell while Smokey the cat purred loudly on his lap as he scratched the feline behind the ears with his big thick fingers.

 

 

“Bet you’re gonna miss this furry guy huh?” Dean turned to see Lisa Braeden sitting just outside of his open cell like she always did.

She was the head of the Animal Therapy for Inmates campaign. She had dedicated her life to helping inmates cope with prison life by accommodating specially trained animals that provided the inmates with love and comfort.

Four years ago when she had first approached him about the project, Dean had thought she was a crazy person. What the hell could animals do to help you emotionally? Well after some convincing from his bitch and Lisa herself, Dean had agreed.

Now, here he was with Smokey the cat, who was purring up a storm. Dean couldn’t lie, the furry animal really did make him feel content if not happy, by just cuddling with him.

Funny enough, Smokey was apparently partial to him. Lisa had admitted he was the only inmate the cat willingly went to see now.

Dean smirked, looking down at the cat who was watching him with heavy lids, bright copper eyes gazing up at him.

“Yeah, I am” Dean admitted as he let his hand pass down the length of the large cat’s body.

They stayed quiet for a while till Lisa stood and came into the cell. She respected the strict rule regarding how much distance had to be in between her and an inmate; all the while, a guard stayed close watching.

“I don’t think we will see you again before you are released. I really wish you the best Dean.” Lisa encouraged, giving him a small smile. He simply nodded, keeping his eyes on Smokey as the cat turned over to give him his belly to pet.

“I um, I wanted to give this to you,” She began as she handed something to the guard to give to Dean. Even after four years and no broken rules or any hostile moments from Dean, the therapist had to have five feet or more between them. Nor was she able to personally hand him anything.

When Lisa would bring Smokey, she would simply put him down and the cat would happily trot through the cell bars and head straight over to Dean without any hesitation.

The guard inspected the envelop and it's only content before he handed it over to Dean.

The inmate opened it in turn and looked at the single item that had been inside. His emerald green eyes went wide before focusing sharply, a softness gracing his features.

“I thought you would like to have it. I had forgotten I had it till recently.” Lisa admitted, watching Dean nod his understanding as he traced his finger over the face in the picture.

“Inias was the only other inmate Smokey liked” She went on.

“Thank you” Dean voiced, his eyes never leaving the picture of his late lover.

“Take care of yourself and good luck. Come one Smokey, time to go” The therapist added softly.

Smokey stood, looking over at her then gazed up at Dean. The inmate smirked, the cat had a hell of a personality. He liked to make Lisa wait for him, until HE was ready to go.

Dean pet the cat’s soft dark grey fur around his neck, getting a loud purring sound outta him before the cat walked over his thighs, rubbed himself all along Dean’s stomach, chest, and head-butted Dean’s left bicep as he went.

Smokey took one last look at Dean with his large copper eyes, saying his own goodbye before he jumped off the cot and made his way over to Lisa.

The woman said nothing else as she picked up the cat and walked away from Dean’s cell. The guard closed the cell door with a loud ‘clank’ followed by the ‘slink’ of the locking mechanism.

 _“Lights out in five!”_ A guard yelled down the block of cells.

Dean stayed where he was, the moonlight shining in from his high tiny barred window, illuminating the only picture Dean now owned.

Inias smiling, holding Smokey the cat.

**#**

“Come on boy, don’t get lazy cause you’re getting out!” Bobby Singer growled.

Dean had been in this particular prison for the last nine years. He was a level IV inmate, meaning, he was in a facility with a secure perimeter, internal and external armed coverage, and housing units or cell-block housing with cells non-adjacent to exterior walls for dangerous inmates.

He was also in Group U for Privileges and Restrictions, meaning, he was not allowed any visits, could only use the telephone in an emergency situation, which in twenty years, had never happened, and had no personal property packages.

What he was allowed however was yard access, which Dean spent working out excessively. He had recreation access which he spent the time gardening. He actually enjoyed it and was good at it. He was allowed entertainment which was usually spent watching Magnum PI and then the last four years had been quality time with his cat therapist, Smokey.

He had also achieved his GED and had been taking courses in carpentry and motor mechanics, which had all been taught by his teacher, Bobby Singer. The old man was gruff and rough around the edges, yet Dean trusted him, which went a long way. The old man had fought for Dean to be able and allowed to learn things. To be able to get his GED in the first place. The man had taken one look at him, called him an idjit and the next thing Dean knew, he was given those privileges.

Dean had made sure not to let the help the man had given him go to waste. He was grateful, unsure why the man deemed him deserving, but he was grateful nonetheless.

Dean didn't play well with others. Many liked to test him because of his size. He wasn't a small man by any means and was built to tackle any moron that was stupid enough to cross his path. Dean had a dark side which he was well aware of. He had to learn to keep it in check.

However, being around others that liked to try to take him down as a means to look strong in front of other inmates, well, Dean did not go down easily. In fact, he had never gone down at all.

After twelve attempts on his life, Dean had killed all twelve in self-defense. His reputation had only gotten scarier no matter which Prison he had been in. The rumors somehow followed.

“What are you even making?” Bobby asked, wiping his forehead with his old trucker hat he wore. They were outside in the woodsman shop of the prison. Dean could see other inmates but they were all separated by twenty-foot high fence that it touched the ceiling.

Bobby came closer and stood next to Dean. He was the only man that wasn’t scared of him and it made Dean feel more ‘normal’ somehow.

“Birdhouse” Dean mumbled. He wasn’t much for words. Bobby grunted next to him, eyeing his work before huffing a smirk. The old man started back towards the bench and sat. He was content in waiting and watching Dean work.

Dean had met Bobby Singer when he was twenty years old in California State Prison, just five years into his sentence. He had already been transferred to another prison for fighting. He had gone to jail for killing two men, and in his first five years had killed three other inmates who had attacked him.

One day, there was Bobby Singer, looking down at him from the door of his cell. He saw nothing but a young lost boy with so much rage and no outlet.

He didn’t know what he saw in him. But to this day, Bobby had been the closest thing to a father that he has ever known. He was the only person in Dean’s life that believed him worthy of learning, of being good.

 _“You’re not a lost cause. You’re many things Dean Winchester, but stupid isn’t one of them. If you’ll at least try boy, let me help you get your GED and go from there”_  
  
That was the first thing Bobby ever told him. The old man had never given up on him and Dean could not understand why, but he was grateful.

Even after Dean had again killed other inmates that had jumped him, Bobby was there. He never even mentioned the killings. Bobby had followed him to each of the five prisons he had been transferred to until settling at High Desert State Prison.

He begrudgingly taught Dean about carpentry, motor mechanics, and basic electronics. They both quickly discovered that Dean had a natural gift when it came to working with his hands. One day his teacher had just walked in with a microwave and told Dean to fix its problem; whatever it happened be. Dean had never even seen a microwave before, but he took the task as a puzzle that he needed to solve.

The microwave worked like brand new when Dean had been done with it and unbeknownst to him, to this day sat on Bobby Singer’s kitchen counter, being used regularly.

Bobby had also made sure to teach Dean the importance of finding a way to relax. Who knew that a vicious killer would enjoy gardening.

Bobby watched Dean start to sand the birdhouse, working casually and completely at ease.

The grouchy old teacher thought of Dean as his son… hell he had even referred to Dean as ‘my boy’ to his superiors that worried Dean was a waste of time and resources. Dean was label as a killer, and he was for lack of better words, barbaric in his killings. Yet Bobby never hesitated to point out repeatedly that Dean had only been defending himself at every turn.

Dean had killed seventeen men including the two men that had landed him in jail at fifteen years old. Every single fight Dean had been involved in had been caught on security cameras in the prisons, helping to plead his case with the self-defense.

Three years after he had settled into High Desert Prison, Dean had taken on a bitch. He had never bothered before but when Bobby saw the way the big quiet man looked at the small and shy Inias Sky, there was no hiding his fondness.

However, the worse of Dean's wrath had come just two years ago. Inias had only been his for four years then.

Dean had cared for and fiercely protected Inias as his bitch. During the end of a motor mechanic class, Dean had actually timidly admitted to Bobby that he thought he loved Inias.

When Dean had left the class, he had been the one to find Inias tied to his own bed; deceased. It had been clear the poor boy had suffered and it had taken a long time for Bobby to get through to Dean. The quiet inmate had gone berserk. Somehow, he had come to learn who had hurt his precious bitch and he had made the four inmates pay dearly.

After Dean’s rage had dissipated, all that had been left was pain and sorrow. He had clutched to Bobby like a scared and devastated boy, crying against his teacher; repeatedly asking why did the people he loved all died. Why were they always taken away from him?

The teacher had had no words for him.

The animal therapy with the cat Smokey seemed to really help Dean work through the death of his lover. Inias had been a key person in getting Dean to try the animal therapy in the first place.

The miracle was that even after Dean’s mostly violent twenty years, because of ‘self-defense’ and Bobby vouching for him; Dean somehow had not gotten added time to his already lengthy prison sentence.

Even The Warden, Fergus Crowley, had looked the other way when Dean slaughtered the inmates that had killed Inias. Sighting that the men he had ‘disposed’ off were scum and Dean had actually done him and the prison a ‘favor’ by making them meet their demise as revenge for the death of Inias Sky. It would have been a lot more trouble for the Warden to explain the death of the shy small man who was only a year away from being released of his five-year sentence for frauds and forgeries.

Now, as Bobby watched Dean who was wearing a concentrated frown on his face while the tip of his tongue stuck out of his lips- apply wood weathering to the birdhouse, he could not help but worry about him. The boy was getting out in a few days and Bobby hoped and prayed to a God he wasn’t even sure existed that Dean would be able to live the rest of his life free.

 

**#####**

 

Today was the day. It was a Wednesday. His last day inside a cell.

6 a.m. Dean was roused from sleep as routine.

7 a.m. He was brought breakfast, fresh banana, scrambled eggs, boiled potatoes, three slices of whole wheat bread with a side of margarine, and a large cup of whole milk. Because Dean was a Level IV inmate he wasn’t allowed in the cafeteria with the others.

9 a.m. As always like every Wednesday, he was allowed three hours in the workout yard. Most inmates kept their distances while others stayed against the fenced in space, giving him death glares. Dean worked out, legs, arms and chest, as per his routine and ignored the eyes on him.

Noon. He was brought lunch in his cell, chicken patty sandwich, potato salad, green beans, three slices of whole wheat bread with a side of margarine, two fruit cups and a large cup of water.

2 p.m. Motor Mechanics with Bobby.

4 p.m. Carpentry with Bobby.

6 p.m. He was brought dinner in his cell, roast beef, baked potato, Italian pasta salad, peas, brown gravy, three slices of whole wheat bread with a side of margarine, and a tall glass of water.

8 p.m. He showered.

9 p.m. The guards, two of them, walked Dean down the halls, his hands shackled as per routine. They brought him down a path he had never seen before passing through multiple security checkpoints and finally bringing him into a single small room where Bobby, four other guards and Warden Crowley awaited him.

“Well then, here are some civilian clothes for you Winchester” Crowley growled out, as a guard released his wrists from the handcuffs while a second guard proceeded to hand him the folded clothing, along with a new pair of work boots atop.

Dean took the clothes and was ushered to a off-white adjacent bathroom. It was small and only had a toilet and sink with a mirror over it. Dean quickly got out of the orange jumper and slipped on the clothes he had been given. New boxers, snugly fit dark jeans, a white undershirt with a green and black plaid over shirt. Socks and then boots donned his feet. Dean looked at himself in the mirror.

He already had a slight scruff gracing his jaw, his hair still damp from his shower and his breath still minty from brushing his teeth. He was 35 years old and he had no idea if he would be able to survive as a ‘free’ man.

“Winchester!”

He heard Crowley bark and he stepped out of the confining room. The Warden rolled his eyes and made an impatient gesture towards the guards.

A burly guard handed Dean a small item.

“A gift, a wallet with your state I.D. inside of it. There is also $50.00 in there. Don’t spend it all in one place. I hope to never see you again Winchester.” Crowley spun on his heels, followed by three of the guards, leaving Dean with Bobby and the remaining three guards.

Bobby stepped towards Dean and held out a form fitting black leather jacket. A “Parting gift” Bobby explained as Dean took it. They strolled out of the door, to the long outside path, heading in the direction of the west gated exit of the Prison as the guards followed their every step.

He studied his State of California I.D. He remembered a few week ago when they had taken his picture with a blue background.

“My number is on a piece of paper in the pocket. If you need anything, call” Bobby offered.

The grumpy old teacher had informed him earlier today that he was retiring in the next four months. Bobby also informed him he lived just outside of Susanville and to not be a stranger.

“Just remember to get a job. Smile, and for god’s sake if you do get into a fight, stop yourself Dean.” Bobby had told him that afternoon during motor mechanics.

They reached the twenty foot heavily wired gate as it beeped loudly before pulling back, effectively releasing Dean from High Desert Prison after his nine years stay. He took a step over the enclosure on the gate and his feet hit dirt and gravel.

All Dean knew was prison life, rules and daily schedule. Routine. Here went nothing. Dean started walking and didn’t look back.

 


	2. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for mentions of rape.

  
  
“I hate it when you’re gone for so long” Castiel mumbled into the phone. He was worried and tired as he painted over the hateful words that had once again been boldly spray painted the length of the west store’s side. The yellow paint dripped down the wood panel. He sighed as he gloomily tried to conceal his property being vandalized again for the hundredth time this year alone.  
  
“I have to fucking work! I can’t sit on my ass all day and make ‘herb du jour’ soap like you! I actually pay bills Castiel. Fuck you are so fucking useless!” Castiel flinched at his husband’s insult.  
  
“I’m sorry” He whispered into the phone. He always made his husband angry without trying to. He was just scared when left on his own. Being the only openly gay couple in Susanville was not exactly met with open arms. Even though Castiel had grown up in this town his whole life, he had never felt safe here. The town was filled with narrow minded and downright hateful people that hid behind their Bible trying to justify their prejudice. Being ‘gay’ wasn’t acceptable, something was wrong with him they would say. The town excluded him, even though his mother had been loved by most when she was alive, they never hid their distaste of Castiel.  
  
They held on to the malicious events he had been conceived and brought into the world as the reason for his ‘unholy’ ways.  
  
Luc being away was an almost constant which made Castiel feel vulnerable. As a trucker he had always been on the road. They had met by chance years ago when Luc had been passing through town. Castiel had been giddy and numbly happy when Luc had cajoled him into going to Vegas with him. They were married three days later.  
  
Castiel had not had many lovers in his life; including Luc, he has had three. He had been swept away in a whirlwind romance, he thought it would last forever.  
  
Yes, the town then started to leave him alone for the most part. He was not being heckled as much, kids stopped throwing things at him when he had to go to town for supplies and men stopped chasing him to beat him. He couldn’t say how many times he had been beaten nearly to death since high school. Too many times he had woken up covered in his own blood and vomit.  
  
He realized rather quickly the townspeople were scared of Luc. His husband was a big strong looking man with a condescending look about him that challenged others to be dumb enough to cross him. In the beginning, there had been a few from the town that set out to make an example of him. Luc had been the only one standing after the altercation. After that, Luc had installed cameras and spot lights around their home, just in case, he had said. No one had ventured that far into the woods to hurt or scare Castiel.  
  
Since then, no one bothered Castiel, which had made the azure blue-eyed man happy and grateful to his husband.  
  
Castiel knew he was a handful. He wasn’t useful for much, and what he was good for, Luc said it was useless. He tried hard to please his husband, wanting to make Luc smile and be nice. However more often than not, he wasn’t good enough and Castiel was used to getting backhanded by Luc while his husband ranted and yelled.  
  
Luc gave him chances though. Even though Castiel doubted himself and knew he was worthless, he did everything he could to appease Luc. Castiel could not lose him. He was all he had; he took care of Castiel and protected him. Castiel lived for the few times he actually did good, making Luc smile at him and kiss him stupid.  
  
He knew he wasn’t good enough, no matter what he did. His herbalist store he had inherited from his mother along with her knowledge of the healing practices was ‘dumb’, ‘a-waste of time’, ‘useless’, and ‘there was nothing practical about it’ according to Luc. Nevertheless, he still let Castiel have the store, because it was all he had left from his mother. Castiel was grateful. He tried hard to be a better cook and to keep the house just as Luc wanted, so he could get praises that made his insides feel warm.  
  
Luc did not hesitate to tell -if not show him- when he was not happy with him. If the food or house were not to his liking, Castiel would get a beating, which only served as fuel to try harder to not to mess up again. Although, he somehow always did something. He was stupid. He knew that, yet Luc was still his husband. Castiel hated himself the most when he could not seem to sexually please his husband.  
  
When Luc would bring other lovers into their bed to make him watch, to show him what he wanted, it devastated him to see his husband be with another. Again, he tried everything his husband wanted till one day, Luc told him that he was not enough; to just accept that he would fuck others when he wanted. He would tell him that they meant nothing, that he only loved him. Castiel believed him, even though some of his husband’s ‘conquests’ had come looking for him. Castiel’s heart had sank every time Luc would welcome them in.  
  
Luc would call him his bitch, beat him in front of others to remind him of his place. And when Castiel finally pleased his husband, Luc would caressed him, tell him he loved him and how much of a good bitch he was.  
  
The only other kind of love he had ever known had been from his mother. He missed her dearly. She was the main reason why he could not leave Susanville. She had been born here. She had Castiel here, raised him here, and this is where he would stay. He and Luc lived in his childhood home. It was by the lake, just a little ways from the town. It was just a few short miles from his single standing store. Castiel worked desperately trying to keep and maintain it.  
  
“I’ll come ‘home’ when I’m fucking done. Don’t fucking bother me” Luc barked followed by the ‘click’ sound of the call ending.  
  
Castiel sighed as he put the cell phone into his back pocket and continued to paint the side of the store, needing to get rid of the ‘die fag whore’ words. They were just words, yet they made a chill run down his spine.  
  
‘Die fag whore’  
  
‘Devil’s whore’  
  
‘Tainted waste’  
  
‘Die die die’  
  
‘Leave fag, leave’  
  
Those were just a few that he remembered. Usually it was only that, however this time they had not only defaced the outside wall, they had broken into the store and ransack one particular section of shelves. When he had assessed the damage, it almost looked like the perps had just suddenly stopped and took off.  
  
He closed his eyes lifting his chin up towards the sun, taking in its warm rays as jasmine and lavender clung to him like a hug. It smelled like his mother, as if she was hugging him.  
  
She had taught him about gardening, how to make natural soaps, herb concoctions for things like arthritis, asthma to skin care and sleeping aids. She also taught him about oils. Castiel had always been very curious and his hunger for learning had entice his mother to happily instill all of her knowledge into him. She showed him how every step in making the concoctions had a purpose and had to be just so. From growing the herbs, to extracting certain oils from fruits or trans fats of some sources. Like a sponge, Castiel had eagerly watched with a ravenous rapture to learn and make his mama proud.  
  
Naomi Novak had loved him until she passed away in her sleep. She had been considerably older when she had him, but loved him dearly and accepted him in every way. She had encouraged while indulging her son in everything that had brought a smile to his sweet face. She had called Castiel her baby angel, ever so loving and patient. She had only ever had an adoring smile for him. Castiel missed the soothing effect it had always given him.  
  
Castiel never knew who his father was, his mother had never uttered a word and he had been too scared to asked. There had been rumors in the town that a drifter had raped her. Castiel had been the result.  
  
Thinking nostalgic thoughts of his mother, he looked at the painted over vandalism. He could still see the outlines of the painted over block letters of the multiple messages. However, from afar, it looked like a normal yellow painted store side.  
  
He made his way back into the store, appraising his store. He had kept everything like his mother had; only adding a few things such as dream catchers and candles he had learned to make.  
  
His laptop by the register beeped.  
  
Castiel rushed over, already knowing it was Charlie. The bouncy redhead woman was his best friend and in reality, his only friend. They had only met once in person when she took a detour through town because she had gotten turned around; but the friendship had been immediate and effortless.  
  
Charlie was a breath of fresh air, bubbly and filled with an uncanny energy that had rendered Castiel helplessly drawn to her. He could not stop smiling around her. They had exchanged numbers as well as e-mails. Now thanks to phone calls and Skype, their three-year friendship was as strong as it has ever been.  
  
Charlie was also the main reason Castiel had been able to keep his small shop afloat. Apparently, there was a very high demand for herbalists and holistic products across the world. Charlie had set up his very simple yet very efficient website for his shop, maintained it and helped him with online orders. Castiel would then make and ship out the products. He had been pleasantly shocked not to mention a bit overwhelmed at the mass demands for his items. Especially, when Charlie set up a reviews page on the website; the website had been flooded with returning customers boasting about his products.  
  
Charlie had tried to convince him that as the owner, he should have his own bank account with the money he made from that store. Of course Castiel had explained that she was being silly. He couldn’t hold things from his husband. Luc’s love and trust were everything. Castiel did not hide anything from him. Sure, she had made being independent sound nice, but he was not independent. He was married and wanted to share and contribute anything he could with Luc. Castiel wanted to try to show him he could be useful to him.  
  
He also did not want to think about the repercussions that could happen if he listened to Charlie. If he hid or withheld things from Luc -like money-, his husband would be livid. Castiel did not want to make him angry.  
  
Castiel had made more money in the last two years then he ever had for the last ten years of having taken over the shop. When he had showed Luc how well he had done, Luc had shrugged his shoulders in indifference but then had been gentle with Castiel when they made love. Castiel had been over the moon.  
  
Castiel clicked the accept button and Charlie’s smiling face graced his screen.  
  
“Hey Charlie, how are you?” Castiel greeted with a shy smirk.  
  
“I’m great, but from the yellow paint on your face I’m going to go ahead and say more ‘loving’ words were displayed on the side of the store” Charlie half heartedly teased. She worried about him.  
  
Castiel turned to look at himself in the small square mirror he kept by the back office door. Sure enough, he had a yellow paint smudge of his left cheek. He groaned.  
  
“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it” He sighed, turning back towards the computer to see Charlie give him a sympathetic smile.  
  
“Alrighty, well happy Wednesday!” The redhead bounced making Castiel smile at her, shaking his head at her energy. “We have quite a few orders. Do you think you will be ready to ship them out tomorrow or latest Saturday?”  
  
Castiel pulled up the order report Charlie had just e-mailed him.  
  
“Yes, I should be able to have everything ready” He confirmed.  
  
“Great!” Charlie cheered.  
  
**#**  
  
Castiel had been working all day on the orders.  
  
He finished the last of the two orders of tea tree oil for acne; Two orders of jasmine oil for skin care; Six orders of oregano oil for antioxidant; Five orders of mixed white willow with lavender herbs for arthritis; Two orders of cloves and peppermint tea for decongestant; sedative and pain reliever; Three orders of sage and marjoram tea for sinuses; headaches, and eases respiration; and One order of ginger and fennel tea for nausea. Four orders of chamomile and kava tea to help a peaceful sleep. Four orders of honey and cinnamon patch for allergies. Two orders of dandelion and Artichoke for liver health. Three eucalyptus and peppermint candles to relieve stress. Four sandalwood candles for mental health, and two patchouli candles for depression.  
  
He was exhausted and his back was killing him from hunching over the table. Nevertheless, the orders were all complete. He stood to grab the UPS boxes with his pre labels, again, all set up by Charlie. The company billed him as a business distributor and a UPS truck came every week to pick up the shipments, which made everything easier for Castiel.  
  
As he started to organize the orders into different boxes, the sound of the small bell that hung over the front door of the shop sounded. It let him know someone had just walked in.  
  
Castiel hurried to the front of the small store as he wiped his hands on his apron. As soon as he saw the two men in his store, he wished he were anywhere but there.  
  
“Hello Castiel” The man’s nasally voice grated on his bone, making Castiel shiver with discussed.  
  
“Alastair…” Castiel murmured, trying his best not to look scared. Castiel had been the center of the older man’s attention since high school. Harassing, taunting and assaulting Castiel more times than he could remember in the bland halls of Lassen High. Castiel had only been a freshman, on his second day of school he fell prey to Alastair and his goons as a new punching bag for the juniors.  
  
Raphael, one of Castiel’s other tormentors, was eyeing his hung up section of dream catchers. If he frowned any harder, Castiel was sure the big man would give himself a headache.  
  
Alastair strolled towards Castiel, grey eyes ghosting over him. Castiel could feel the heat of the gaze. Everything in him was screaming for him to run, but the herbalist made himself stay still, he didn’t want to show fear. He swallowed hard as Alastair stopped just a foot away from him, icy grey eyes traveling the length of Castiel’s body.  
  
Castiel may not have been fifteen anymore but Alastair still evoked that feeling in him. Being small, scared and helpless as they had their fun with him. Even after twelve years, Alastair continued to seek him out, just to watch him shake with panic.  
  
Alastair had sexually assaulted him on quite a few occasions; He would yank his pants down, bend him over and spank him. On a few instances, he would spread Castiel’s cheeks while his goons held him down and rubbed some foreign object against Castiel’s hole. Sometimes it had been an apple or orange. Sometimes a marker which he had actually slid into Castiel, raping him with it.  
  
The way the older man’s icy grey eyes watched him with a mix of arousal and disgust, back then and even now, was eerie and frightening.  
  
Castiel was quite certain that the man had been fighting his own sexuality. Hypocrite, Castiel thought, and clearly, his goons were too scared of Alastair to call him on it. Picking on Castiel was easier.  
  
Alistair’s grotesque smile unnerved him, which sent a chill down his spine. Castiel’s cobalt blue eyes tracked his assailant’s movements as he reached into his shirt pocket and took out two Polaroid pictures. Alastair ogled him hungrily as he saw the recognition in Castiel’s pretty blues.  
  
Castiel swallowed hard as shame gripped him. He hated those pictures, he wished he could burn them as Alastair slid them in front of him on the counter, making sure the pictures were right angled for Castiel to have a clear view of them.  
  
The pictures depicted Castiel, bent over, ass exposed with his cheeks spread by two large hands. His legs confined by his own jeans wrapped around his thighs keeping him from moving. His back was arched as someone’s hand pulled Castiel’s face up by his hair. Pain and fear clear on his features.  
  
The second pic was a closer view of his ass being fucked with large sharpie marker. His hole wet from Alastair’s spit while his hand held the end of the marker.  
  
Castiel was sure there were more pictures but apparently, Alastair liked these two the best. They portrayed a sixteen year old vulnerable and scared as strange hands did as they wanted.  
  
Alastair leaned forward on the counter, steel grey eyes watching Castiel intently. “I never get tired of cuming to these. I still wonder how it would feel to split you open with my cock” The man murmured quietly, only for Castiel to hear.  
  
Castiel shivered in fear. It was only a matter of time before Alastair gave into his twisted desires he had been restraining himself for years. Castiel was terrified of the outcome.  
  
He could call the police, but they wouldn’t care. Unless Alastair actually touched him, they would not bother. It was terrifying to know that the law did nothing until after someone was physically assaulted… or raped.  
  
Alastair licked his lips, taking back the pictures, and slipped them back into his breast pocket. Castiel felt nauseous as Raphael came towards them.  
  
“Why are you here?” Castiel forced out. He was surprised he sounded firm instead of like a shivering leaf, which was how he felt.  
  
“I need something for asthma. My grandma insisted I came here. Your mother used to make the crap for her” Raphael growled, clearly not happy about setting foot in the place.  
  
Lemongrass, ginger, licorice mixed with fig jam, turmeric, and mustard oil. He knew the remedy by heart. It was usually Raphael's sister Rachel that came to get that for their grandmother.  
  
Castiel turned to the shelf behind him, grabbed a small bulky jar and handed it over to Raphael. Raphael cringed in disgust, like touching it would somehow turn him _‘gay’_.  
  
“It’s 25$” Castiel announced. Raphael growled as he threw two bills at him.  
  
“Let’s go, my skin is crawling just being in here” Raphael stated angrily at Alastair as he spun on his heels and headed out of the store.  
  
Alastair let his eyes roam over Castiel’s body, making him feel dirty. “I’ll see you soon Castiel, real soon”  
  
It sounded too much like a promise. Castiel was physically shaking as he watched the green pinto drive off.  
  
  



	3. New

  
  
Susanville was definitely... different. Not that Dean had known exactly what to expect or if he should expect something; however, the people were more or less suspicious of him. He had walked into town early in the morning. The sun had just grazed the clouds when the early risers had started going about their day.  
  
Raised eyebrows and snubbed grins had greeted him at every turn, which only served to irritate him.  
  
Bobby had told him to smile. When he did smile at a young woman who was turning the closed sign to her clothing store to open, well, she turned beet red as she rushed back inside.  
  
Ok. Yes, he was a stranger but Dean liked to think he did not look threatening. However, from some of the men he encountered walking down the main street, maybe he did. Most of the men had given him a hard look and stood up straighter, trying to somehow seem bigger.  
  
Dean shook his head. Maybe the outside world was not that much different from prison. Men always had something to prove. He seemed to naturally bring that out in other males.  
  
He had proceeded to stop in every opened business on the strip. From grocery stores and dollar stores to Bars and plumbers.  
  
Half of the places Dean had never even thought of nor did he have any knowledge about them but he needed a job. Every single person had said ‘No, sorry. We aren’t hiring.’ Some had added colorful words saying a ‘drifter was not reliable’, ‘strangers should not be trusted’ or his personal favorite ‘get out’. At a sewing store, a plump older woman with what seemed to be permanent rollers in her hair asked him a zillion questions before sending him on his way.  
  
 _“Where are you from? How old are you? Are you married? Why are you in Susanville? What size shoes do you wear? Boxers or briefs? Are you any good with those big hands?”_  
  
Dean had not even gotten a chance to respond, however, he had decided to ignore the random and downright weird questions and had asked his own.  
  
“Are you hiring?” Answering with another question had just seemed to make the woman’s curiosity abruptly stop. She glared, eyeing him up and down, before smacking her lips saying ‘No we ain’t hiring’. Dean had nodded his understanding for the millionth time that day and walked out.  
  
When he got back on the sidewalk continuing on, his new friend he had made last night trotted up to him, brushing against his jeaned calves. Dean smirked as he reached down to pet the big cat. The feline had followed him throughout the town.  
  
After being released from prison the night before, Dean had walked for about an hour if not a bit more. The deserted roads were pitch black; the night was slightly chilly as Dean had come up on an abandoned light grey Cadillac left in a ditch on the side of the road. It was mostly hidden by the surrounding forest so Dean made his way to the old car. From the looks of it, Dean guessed it was a 96’ or 97’ Cadillac Deville. It was a big car and lucky for him, the car was open. He did not know why the car had been ditched but he would at least have shelter for the night.  
  
The front passenger window was broken; however, beyond that, the car did not seem to have any other damage.To his relief as he opened the back door on the driver’s side, there was no horrid odor, just the smell of leather and woods from the scenery around him.  
  
The inside of the car was relatively clean besides a few dead leaves that had blew in from the broken window. Dark blue leather seats with carpeted floor mats made up the inside. Dean laid down in the back seat, the leather cool and the width of the backseat was long enough for him to get comfortable.  
  
As he had started to doze off, he felt someone looking at him. The feeling made him clench his jaw. He was not even out one day before he would have to possibly try to get out of an altercation.  
  
Slowly, he opened his eyes. It had taken him a moment to realize what he was looking at. Two pairs of glowing green eyes had been inches from his face. A beautiful and big cat sat on the floor looking up at him.  
  
The cat meowed before reaching up with a stripped paw to nudge his arm.  
  
“Hey cat.” Dean murmured, voice heavy from almost sleep. The cat nudged his arm again. Dean lifted his arm to see what the cat wanted. The feline jumped up and laid down where his arm was. “Alright, we’ll share.” Dean mused.  
  
He rested his arm back down loosely around the cat and closed his eyes again. The sudden sound of purring made him smirk into the leather of the bench.  
  
Maybe he was a cat person. Cats certainly seemed to like him and he did not mind them at all. If anything, the purring felt soothing.  
  
Hours later, Dean had woken up from the sun hitting his face, the cat was still curled up against his chest.  
  
As Dean had set out to start walking again, the cat had followed wordlessly.  
  
Now, here they were. It was well into the afternoon. Dean guessed closer to dinnertime and he could not help but feel hungry.  
  
He straightens his form from petting the cat. He would have to give him a name at some point. His stomach growled.  
  
Dean sighed. He turned to look across the street, seeing what seemed to be a small diner. He made his way towards it, the cat trailing after him.  
  
There were a few old, weathered down tables, and chairs outside. He sat down in one, the cat jumped up on a broken down tree stump that had a few twisted thick branches together and laid there, an arm away from Dean.  
  


He was not sure what the cat’s fascination with him was but he did not mind the company. He mentally joked that Smokey had sent him.

“This your cat?” The sound of his petite waitress’s rough voice made Dean look up. The woman looked to be in her sixties and clearly smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

“Um, yeah.” Dean guessed, looking at the pretty cat. He reached over to pet the cat who leaned into his touch, purring.

The woman grunted. “Well, make sure he doesn’t try and come inside. What will you have?”

Dean glanced down at the menu quickly. It announced a multitude of sandwiches, pies, and milkshakes.

“I’ll try the roast beef and provolone,” He said quickly. That particular sandwich was the only thing he actually recognized on the menu. He did not want to waste the money he had on something he would not like.

“Anything to drink?” The woman pressed.

“Water” Dean replied quickly.

The waitress was gone as fast as she had appeared.

Dean sat back in the old chair, making it creak as he shifted on it. The town was quiet and looked a bit run down, almost as if it had seen better, livelier days.

He was not sure what he was expecting. He had no idea where he was going nor what he was going to do. All he did know was that he felt a bit overwhelmed, not that he cared to admit it. This whole experience was a bit surreal.

He felt antsy. The last twenty years of his life had always been the same. The same kept schedule, the same routine. He knew what he had to do and where he had to go. Three meals a day that were chosen for him, a daily schedule with precise times as well as a bed and shower without fail, it was readily provided to him as an inmate.

Now that he was out… He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the slight panic that had began to fester in the pit of his stomach.

The last few hours had passed as if he operated in some sort of vague awareness; where nothing felt real, and left behind any meaningful residue. It was all one big blur.

He was thirty-five years old. He had never had a job, no social skills, no useful ‘streets smarts’ as Bobby had mentioned, and had to be careful. He felt like a vulnerable little baby, incapable of taking care of himself. That irritated him.

The sound of a plate being set in front of him made him snap out of his racing thoughts. The waitress did not bother waiting for his acknowledgement before going back into the diner.

The sandwich was larger than he had expected. He took a bite out of it and was pleasantly surprised at the juicy and delicious taste of it. Dean moaned.

“Meow”

Dean turned to see his cat watching him intently. He smirked as he chewed and pulled off a small piece of roast beef from his sandwich before he gave it to the cat.

The feline was already pulling Dean’s big hand towards him with his paw until he bit into the piece of meat.

“Good huh?”

The cat purred as Dean continued to share his food with the cat. Dean tried the fries and damn, they were so good and salty. He gave a fry to the cat and watched his furry friend simply lick the salt off the potato.

“Here’s you bill” The gravelly voiced waitress announced, putting the scribbled ticket on the table for Dean.

The ex-con looked down at it as the cat licked at his greasy fingers.

$9.56

Dean had no idea if that was expensive or cheap in the free world, but with the amount of money he did have, well, he would not be eating three times a day. He still had to figure out where he would sleep. The sun was low in the sky and a chilled breeze was already picking up.

Fuck.

He took out the ten-dollar bill, leaving him with the two twenties, before he handed the waitress the money.

The woman took the bill and glared at him. “Wow a whole .44 cents tip” She growled in an overjoyed mocking tone before glaring at him once more, turned on her heels and murmured ‘cheap asshole’ as she walked away.

Dean looked after her a bit confused. “Tip?” He wondered aloud, looking over at the cat as he tilted his head.

He was not sure what had just happened but he thought it best if he got up and left. He glanced into the diner’s window front watching the waitress ranting at a big man dressed in a white apron. She was pointing towards his direction.

Dean took a minute to finish his glass of water when he saw the big man, which he guessed was the cook, coming towards him.

The ex-con sighed as he looked at the cat who was still sitting on the branch. He watched him knowingly.

“You’re not helping.” He murmured at the furry creature. The man bust out of the diner’s front door making a beeline for him.

“Was there something wrong with my food?” The man barked. He was balding but Dean figured he looked to be about Bobby’s age, maybe slightly older. The cook was wide with a large potbelly. He had different food stains across his sweaty white t-shirt and apron.

Dean sighed before standing, towering over the burly man by a good foot and squared his shoulder in a defensive - yet confident - stance.

“No.” Dean answered, his apple green eyes hard and unwavering. He locked with the cook’s dug brown ones.

Some of the bravado seemed to leave the man as he accessed Dean. “Then why didn’t you tip my wife? Did she do something wrong?” The man asked, having taken his bark down a bit to a more civil tone.

There was the word again. “Tip?” Dean questioned with a raised eyebrow.

The man squinted his eyes, clouded with confusion. “Yeah, tip. Where are you from anyway?”

“High Desert State Prison.” Dean replied, watching the man visibly pale. The ex-con watched him closely, if the guy was going to make a move. Dean would be ready. However, by the way the man blenched and took a step back - while looking at Dean like he was a wild animal he was trying not to spook - Dean knew he wouldn’t be fighting tonight.

Good.

“Um… n-never mind. Have a good night.” The man blabbed, practically tripping over his own feet as he rushed back into the restaurant and locked the diner’s front door behind him.

Dean sighed as he headed towards the sidewalk heading west. The cat followed.

 


	4. Hello

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo this has taken forever lol but I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. I'm working on the rest of this fic along with others. I just hope the next chapter to this story won't take as long as this one took. lol

  
  
Buildings became less and less, giving way to more of the stunning forest that surrounded the town. The breeze of the early evening was getting chilly and Dean pulled the leather jacket around him tighter. He kept his emerald gaze on the large fluffy cat who trailed along, trotting in the long grass off the concrete road.  
  
Dean wasn’t sure where he was heading, only that he had to find some kind of shelter and figure out how to get a job. He considered going back to the old abandoned Cadillac but felt he would be going backwards. There was a pull of some sort telling him to keep going.  
  
The lightning speed of his furry friend dashing caught his attention. The cat then jump high and scaled up a tree only to jump once more and caught a bird in mid flight before landing on all fours with his prey. Dean had watched with wide-eyed awe, and as the cat had proceeded to tear and eat the dead bird, he had to admit that the event had been an impressive thing to see.  
  
A name for the cat dawned on him then and he smirked as the cat’s lime green eyes looked up at him. Dean would swear the cat understood him. He shook his head and resumed his walk, leaving the cat to eat.  
Only about twenty minutes passed before the road split into a four-way. To his right, he spotted what looked like a store with a green car slowly pulling into one of the three parking spots.  
  


Well, it wouldn’t hurt to see if they were hiring, the open sign was lit in the window.

“Meow”

Dean looked down as the cat rubbed against his legs. Ninja, Dean had confirmed the fluffy thing’s name to himself. He had done quick work of the bird. Dean figured he must have been hungry.

“Meow”

Dean smirked as he patted Ninja who leaned into his touch before making his way to the store’s door. As he walked in, a calming scent greeted him. He had no idea what it was but he liked it. It felt soothing and relaxing. The small shop was neat and tidy, with shelves filled with flowers? Dean wasn’t sure what he was looking at but there seemed to be different kinds of bottled dried flowers and maybe grains?

“Hello, how can I help you?” Dean turned at the voice and was greeted with the sight of a really pretty man. He was smaller and shorter than Dean and dressed in jeans and a grey t-shirt with a white apron down his front, hiding most of his form. He had dark chocolate hair, a straight nose with plush pink dry lips, and the most beautiful cerulean blue eyes.

Inias had had beautiful blue eyes, but these looked electric and mesmerizing.

"Hi, would you be hiring?" Dean asked for what felt like the millionth time that day.

The azure blue gaze turned curious if not a bit cautious. "Not particularly"

Dean smiled politely as he nodded his head. "Ok thanks for your time" He moved to exit the store, spotting the cat waiting for him outside the front door, when a thin man stepped out of the green car.

The overhead bell on the store’s door sounded as Dean exited and the lanky man gave him a sneer as he passed him and went into the store. Dean turned and kept his eyes on him. Everything in him tingled and he suddenly felt on high alert. Dean knew a predator when he saw one, hell HE was one. He looked down at Ninja who’s green eyes looked from him to the store and glared. Dean wiped his face, because apparently he could read cat expressions now. He sighed. Weirdness aside, something was off about the man that had just walked in and Ninja agreed.

Gritting his teeth, Dean squared his shoulders and cracked his neck, then headed back into the store. The main area was empty as his eyes scanned the floor, and then he heard it… the unmistakable cry of distress mixed in with the sure sounds of a struggle followed.

_“Stop!”_ A scared voice cried out and Dean just reacted. All thoughts left him as he headed for the hidden back room where he found the slim man trying to handle the other one into submission. The apron was gone and his t-shirt was ripped as the attacker shoved him face first over what looked like a workstation and yanked at his jeans, attempting to bare him to have him.

Anger coursed through Dean’s veins. There was nothing worse than seeing someone trying to force a bitch into sex and Dean didn’t let that slide, not if he had anything to say about it. He couldn’t comprehend how someone got pleasure from hurting and terrorizing a bitch.

Dean took the man in a firm grip and shoved him _hard_ against the wall.

“What the fuck are you doing! You can have a turn” The thin man snarled in a nasally voice after he recovered his breath from the force of Dean slamming him into the wall.

“No! Please don’t hurt me… please” Dean could hear the pretty man cry out behind him, moving away from them.

“He doesn’t want it” Dean barked as his icy fern green eyes bored into stale grey ones. The other man gave an unnerving smirk, clearly trying to unsettle Dean. However,all it achieved was to provoke an evil smile from Dean as he exposed his sharp canines. The thought of a physical fight always gave Dean a sense of power. In the back of his mind he could hear Bobby telling him not to fight or he’ll go back to jail but he couldn’t find it in him to back down from a challenge, especially while protecting a pretty-blue eyed bitch.

The ex-con’s smile made the thin man’s face falter and he seemed to realized he didn’t know the stranger holding him firmly against the wall, and what he was capable of. Dean took the hint of fear in those grey eyes as a win and pulled the other man away from the wall, proceeding to drag him out and shove him away from the building.

The man stumbled and barely managed not to fall as he turned to look back at Dean, standing tall and obviously ready to carry out whatever was needed to make him leave.

Ninja suddenly appeared, clearly not bothered with the intensity in the air and rubbed himself against Dean’s legs.

The slim man glared at Dean and quickly made his way to his car. The green pinto peeled out, tires screeching as it headed towards the town.

Dean stepped back into the store. The need to comfort the rattled bitch was running through him. He found the pretty man now standing with his clothes on properly, hugging himself as Dean went for him.

“Thank-” Blue eyes’ words died as Dean claimed his lips. The ex-con wrapped his left arm around the slim waist and slid his right hand into the dark curls. The bitch was too stunt at first but then he melted against Dean, kissing him back with the same fierce and needy want as Dean devoured him, mapping out his mouth.

“Name” Dean demanded once he pulled back, his thumb caressing the beauty’s bottom plush lip.

“Castiel” He was dazed, staring up at wild moss green eyes, layered with arousal.

“Are you an owned bitch?” The ex-con asked as his eyes roamed over Castiel.

“W-what?” Castiel’s eyes fluttered and he took a step back. What the hell had just happened? Alistair and now this man defending him and then kissed him, now calling a bitch? Castiel was so confused and the sharp and potent feeling of guilt grip him. He took a few steps back from the big man in front of him.

“Do you belong to someone?” Dean tried again as he watched panic start to set in those wide azure blue eyes. He stayed where he stood as Castiel put space between them.

“I-I’m married” Castiel babbled as his hands fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt. He closed his eyes, trying to shake this desperate feeling of wanting to go back into the stranger’s arms. No… Castiel was married to Luc and he was nothing but worthless and… and Luc never held him so gently if barely. How could a kiss from a complete stranger have felt so good? Castiel looked up at the emerald green eyes that were just silently watching him. He couldn’t understand the look of - what was that? Want? Hurt? - in those mesmerizing green eyes.

The bitch, Castiel, was taken, therefor, Dean couldn’t touch him again. The ex-con let out a deep breath through his nose. He was very attracted to the bitch, but he didn’t want to get him into any more trouble he most likely already had from kissing him and damn if the kiss hadn’t been delicious.

Castiel knew Luc would be mad if he found out about the kiss, but the stranger had stopped Alistair from… Castiel shivered. He didn’t want to think of what his tormentor would have done if the man standing before him, quietly watching him, had not stepped in.

“Thank you… for stopping Alistair…” Castiel voiced, ever so quietly, not quite able to look up at the silent man. He wasn’t sure why Alistair had decided to attack him now, as if he had reached his denial point, but he was ever so thankful the stranger had been here. He wondered if Luc would have punished him for Alistair touching him. Luc barely touched him as it was, unless he was being reprimanded or to be bedded. If Alistair had… Castiel was fairly certain Luc wouldn’t want him anymore.

Fuck. Castiel looked so scared, hunched in on himself and Dean could practically see the sadness and self-hate radiating off his small form. Everything in him wanted to protect this pretty bitch. Clearly whomever he belong to wasn’t properly taking care of what was theirs. It irritated Dean. If you had a bitch, particularly a pretty and small one like the man before him, you had a responsibility to keep them safe and make sure they were cared for, especially if you absolutely had to leave them alone for a certain amount of time.

They were basic rules of survival and Dean had miscalculated only once, and it had cost Inias’s life. This almost felt like a replay if not a second chance. However, Dean grimly reminded himself that the bitch in front of him did not belong to him, but to someone else.

"Would you know where I could get a room for fourty dollars$?" The stranger’s deep southern drawl caressed Castiel in ways he didn’t understand. The voice was firm, yet kind and gentle. Castiel really liked it.  
  
"Why fourty dollars?" Castiel timidly asked, still keeping as much distance between them as the small work room offered. The guilt inside was eating at him, yet he couldn’t stop himself. He had liked the kiss, he had liked the stranger’s arm around him. He was nothing but a useless whore… Luc was right, he was nothing, just a worthless slut that cheated on his husband.

Dean made himself look away, he had nothing to be ashamed about, he knew that. He was just starting his life, yet he couldn’t help but feel a bit out of sorts. Not knowing where he would sleep and how he would be able to eat was a very real and terrifying situation, which he was in with both feet. "It's all I have" He voiced softly. The blue eyes went wide and the pretty man stepped around the corner of the counter and seemed to look Dean over. The ex-con wasn’t sure how the gaze made him feel. Half appreciative and half apprehensive.

It was all he had? Castiel tilted his head slightly and remembered that the stranger had come in asking if he was hiring in the first place. The man didn’t seem homeless but appearances could be deceiving, Castiel knew that much. He liked to hope he wasn’t completely as stupid as Luc repeatedly told him he was. Charlie always tried to tell him differently.

"Where are you coming from?" Blue eyes asked and Dean couldn’t help but find the tilt of his head cute. Made him think of a bird.

Dean bit his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth as he thought about lying but just as quickly dismissed the idea. He didn’t see a point in lying. "Prison"

"I see” The pretty bitch whispered as he looked away for a moment before looking back up at Dean. His eyes roamed over Dean again, making the ex-con suppress the urge to flex. Dean wasn’t sure how ‘claims’ were done in the real world but in prison, if a pretty little thing like Castiel looked at him like that, Dean would flex, stand tall and square his shoulder, show his dominance to a potential ‘bitch’ to protect. However, this bitch already belong to someone. Dean would behave, he wasn’t about to cause more problems for the beauty then he already had.

Dean took a deep breath and nodded his goodbye as he turned and stepped out into the now much too cool night air, the skies were already a navy blue. He sighed as he moved to start walking again with the fluffy cat following next to him.

Castiel stood still, numbly watching the stranger that had saved him walking away, pulling his jacket tighter around him.

_“Kindness is not always easy to find, but one should always repay kindness with kindness”_

Castiel’s mother’s words drifted through him. His feet were moving before he could think. He found himself standing in front of his store as the cold chill of the night hit him.

"Wait!" Castiel called out, making Dean turn around a bit surprised. "I need a helper and a... a protector of sorts... I can't pay very much but I can provide you with a place to stay" The pretty man announced. As Dean let the initial shock of this wonderful proposition hit him, he watched the man begin to fidget as he stood before him. Dean had not been wrong, he could see the slight fear in the depths of the electric blue eyes.

“Alright” Dean agreed and extended his hand. “Dean Winchester”

Castiel shyly took the offered hand. No one had ever shaken his hand before.

Dean’s hand was tingling from their brief touch and couldn’t stop himself from smirking as Castiel just seemed to still be trying to take him in with those impossibly big blues and there was a definite blush making its way up Castiel’s neck and cheeks.

“Meow”

Castiel looked down to find a big beautiful, fluffy cat sitting next to Dean’s feet, looking up at him with large jade green eyes. “Muffin!” Castiel bent down and picked up the cat in his arms, hugging and nuzzling it. “Where have you been? I was so worried” Castiel whispered into the now purring large cat’s furry coat.

Dean watched the exchange, not missing the genuinely happy smile that graced Castiel’s face. “Muffin?” He asked. After the cat’s grand display of predatory skills, Dean smirked at the ridiculous name.

The store owner scratched the now purring cat behind the left ear. “Yeah, it just… came out one day”

“So he is your cat?”

“I suppose so yes. He likes to wander for a few days. Worries me but he always comes back” Castiel replied as he bit his lower lip while ‘Muffin’ rubbed his head against his chin.

Dean nodded as he followed Castiel back into the store.

The Herbalist wasn’t sure what he had agreed to, maybe he really was a stupid whore like Luc reminded him daily. Who else but a useless slut would hire and let an ex-con stay at his home while his husband was away? Luc would be mad, he knew that. However his fear of Alistair was much deeper and if Dean could protect him from Alistair while his husband was out of town, then Castiel needed him.

Luc would punish him, he knew, but he wanted to help Dean and maybe help himself.

  


**###**

  


Dean was pleasantly surprised when Castiel brought him to his home. The homely cabin was right next to a lake and surrounded by the forest, keeping it slightly hidden from the road and was only about a ten minute walk from the shop.

Castiel had shown him to his room which used to be, according to the pretty blue eyed man, the garage. It had been transformed it into a bedroom with its own small bathroom years ago.

Castiel had explained that his husband had built it and the room had been for his sister-in-law to stay with them.

Luc’s sister Hester had only lived with them for a year before she got her own place in town. She worked at the doctor’s office as the receptionist. She never hid her disdain of Castiel.

The room Castiel ushered the ex-con into was quaint and cozy. A simple twin bed, one night stand with a small writing desk in the corner. A floor length curtain posed as a door for the small bathroom. A toilet, shower and small sink filled the space.

Dean had thanked him and Castiel had left him to get familiar with the room that would be his for a while. Ninja or _Muffin_ jumped on the bed and promptly slumped down into a half circle for a nap. Dean smirked, he guessed he really did have a cat now. He made his way over to one of the two narrow windows and slid one open a few inches. If Ninja needed to go out, he didn’t want to be awoken nor did he want to confine the wild cat.

The ex-con took off his clothes and walked into the shower. Soap, shampoo and conditioner were on the small shelf. Dean picked up the soap and looked at it curiously. It was marbled with different patches of greens and blacks, but smelled amazing. He had never seen a soap like this one before. The ones in jail were all standard white and bland.

He knew he had a lot to learn, but he wanted to keep things as simple as possible. Castiel explained his routine, and damn if the guy hadn’t been completely cute and shy, yet Dean had seen the obvious insecurity. The bitch was clearly not sure of himself.

Castiel got up around seven, eat breakfast and made it to store around nine to open. He generally stayed open till about six or seven depending on what needed to be done. He explained that Dean could help him as well as be a sort of security guard. Dean had snorted at that, him, a security guard. However when Castiel had explained that some people in town liked to scare him, Dean’s grin had vanished.

“Why are people trying to scare you?”

Castiel fidgeted. “I um, I’m not um… accepted”

Dean just looked at him a bit confused.

“Being gay... not many people in town are comfortable with that and, um, like to make a show of that”

Dean had just watched him, looking uneasy and closed in on himself like he was trying to hide from something, or maybe someone.

“Alistair” Dean voice and watched the pretty bitch practically shake in fear at the name as he nodded.

Either way, Dean wanted a routine and simplicity. Figure out what he could be useful for work wise, keep food in his stomach and a roof over his head, and if that meant keeping Castiel safe while his husband was away, then he would do that.

His attraction to the pretty blue eyed herbalist, is what Castiel had called himself, would have to be kept in check. Castiel was married to some trucker named Luc, reaffirming he was someone else’s bitch. Dean just couldn’t figure out why the husband would he leave his bitch unprotected and vulnerable. Nevertheless, Dean had to set his priorities and one of them was to eventually figure out how to find his little brother, Sam.

 


End file.
